


If it gets too hard, you can always come here

by Rivkah94



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Comfort, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 03:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivkah94/pseuds/Rivkah94
Summary: Yuki sees himself in Kisa, and, when she continues to struggle with bullies at her school, he does his best to comfort her despite his own misgivings about himself.





	If it gets too hard, you can always come here

The walk back was quiet, and, after so many months of chatter, it was eerie. Yuki fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt as he traveled along the dirt road that led to Shigure’s house. 

_ Home, _ he corrected himself.

He was still getting used to calling it that, but it had become easier and easier lately. He no longer felt like he was lying when he said it, and, if he was being honest, that scared him just a little.

Hanajima and Arisa had whisked Honda-san away immediately after school. For an adventure, they said, a journey, a secret mission. Yuki still didn’t understand them, but he smiled ever so slightly to himself as he thought of how they fawned over Honda-san and spoke to him like anyone else. They were strange, certainly, but so was he, and at least they had positive traits to show for it . . .

Kyo, on the other hand, had finally been convinced (forced?) to join Hatsuharu for some afternoon training. Momiji and Haru dragged him off before anyone had a chance to blink or object - not that Yuki would.

“It’s far more peaceful without him around,” he said to the trees, but he was met with only silence.

He gripped the strap of his bag tightly and sped up his pace, suddenly eager to be free of the forest. The house came into view up ahead, and he relaxed a little. He opened the front door and slipped off his shoes.

“I’m back,” he called out.

Silence. Yuki frowned as he dumped his bag unceremoniously at the foot of the stairs and walked into Shigure’s office. He wasn’t there, but the voicemail light on his phone was blinking urgently, so Yuki had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing the author (were you an author if you barely actually wrote?) anytime soon.

_ Guess it’s just me this evening. _

Yuki stood in the office doorway for a few moments, letting that thought fill the air around him until it became unbearable. He headed to the kitchen, hoping to find distraction by way of a snack or the living room television. He had been alone plenty of times in this house, but it had been a long time.

_ Was it always awful like this? _

He knew the answer of course: aloneness used to just mean he was alone - now it meant that something - someone - was missing. He tried not to fixate on it as he pulled juice out of the fridge. It was almost empty. He took off the cap and drank straight from the carton. 

A creak drew his attention. He opened the divider between the kitchen and living room a bit more and frowned. There was a silhouette on the paper door leading to the porch, someone crouched in the corner. Yuki stepped through the room and slid the door open.

Sitting, tucked into the corner of the door and a bend in the wall, with knees drawn to her chest, was Kisa. She was in her school uniform, and she had been crying.

When Yuki opened the door, she looked up with a tear stained face and stared in silence, her grip on her knees tightening ever so slightly. Yuki stared back for a few seconds before squatting down in front of her, juice carton still in one hand.

“Kisa,” he said, “How long have you been here?”

Kisa rubbed her eyes, pausing as she realized her nose was running. Yuki reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it out to her, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she took it and wiped her nose.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay. That’s what it’s for.”

They sat in silence for another moment.

“The girls at school,” Kisa murmured, “I thought one of them had started to like me . . . I thought, maybe . . . She would be my friend . . .”

She sniffled again, and her voice broke as fresh tears began to fall. Yuki’s chest ached. He didn’t know Kisa very well - their age difference was enough that he rarely saw her even when he was able to meet with the others growing up. But she reminded him of himself - just as Haru had said.

_ Why is Haru always right? _

“Come inside,” Yuki said, standing up and pushing the door wide open. 

Kisa shakily rose to her feet and walked inside, dropping her school bag on the table and standing in the middle of the room, Yuki’s handkerchief clutched in both hands.

Yuki dumped the juice carton in the trash and turned to Kisa. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

_ If only Honda-san were here . . . _

That was obviously who Kisa had come to see. Of all the days.

“Honda-san . . . I don’t know when she’ll be home.”

Yuki didn’t think Kisa could look any sadder, but the way her face fell was devastating. Yuki knew how she felt. He’d been trying to suppress it the whole way back from school. But he couldn’t just leave Kisa in the lurch like this. He had to try.

“What happened at school?”

Kisa gripped the handkerchief even tighter. She was quiet for so long that Yuki thought he wasn’t going to get an answer, but then she spoke, so softly that he had to take a few steps closer to hear.

“I thought . . . She would be my friend. But then, after class, two other girls were t-telling me that . . . That my voice sounds stupid . . . And I should just be quiet again . . . “

Kisa paused to rub her eyes and wipe her nose again.

“They shoved me a little, then asked her if she agreed . . . She said yes, and left without me . . .”

Kisa squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body shaking.

“I failed. I tried to make friends, but I can’t . . . I’m just not good enough . . . Even though I’m trying I can’t.”

Yuki was still, watching Kisa shake as she cried. There were a few minutes of silence broken only by her sobs, before he finally spoke.

“You know,” he said, “I . . . I can’t make friends either.”

Kisa raised her eyes to his, tears still slipping from the corners, a confused expression.

“I’ve never been able to do it. Even now . . . It’s really Honda-san’s doing, everybody I spend time with. Even Haru . . . He just decided one day to talk to me, but I’ve never really been a good friend to him. I’m pathetic, honestly.”

Kisa’s eyes widened, her mouth open in a small “o”. She knew very little about Yuki, really, only that he was Akito-sama’s favorite. She thought it would be wonderful to be favored by someone, and that Yuki must be very popular. She was bewildered.

“I stopped trying a long time ago. Like I said, there was a time I stopped talking too . . . And even once I started again, and I moved out here with Shigure, but things didn’t get much better. Everyone at school looks up to me, but I’ve never done anything to earn their admiration. Even when I was chosen for student council, I didn’t want it. And even if they look up to me, none of them really know me at all because I don’t show them the real me. Because I’m afraid if I did . . . They’d all hate me.”

Yuki smiled at Kisa, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m awful, really. I’m not kind or personable. I’m . . . I’m a coward.”

Kisa had stopped crying by this point, completely floored by the look on Yuki’s face and the sincerity in his voice. He was saying exactly what she knew about herself.

Yuki clenched his fists. It was true - there was nothing redeemable about him.

_ But Honda-san makes me feel like maybe there could be. _

He turned his back to Kisa, hoping she wouldn’t notice his watery eyes. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair to compose himself.

“Do you want to see my secret base?” He asked, whirling to face Kisa.

She jumped a little.

“Secret . . . base?”

“Yes. Only people I trust are allowed to see it. Do you want to?”

He held out his hand. Kisa wasn’t sure what to make of his offer, but she was curious what kind of secret base someone like Yuki would have. She took his hand.

They walked in silence, hand in hand, for a few minutes. Kisa noticed that they followed a footpath through the trees - one she suspected had been carved by Yuki. The sun was setting, and she thought briefly that her mother might be worried, but she didn’t think she could face her just yet. Not after she had failed, again.

“Here it is.”

Yuki’s voice shook her from her thoughts. Before them sat a large bed of vegetable sprouts, all aligned in neat rows, a trowel stuck in the dirt at one corner. Yuki dropped her hand and walked to the other side of the bed, squatting down and pointing to a sprout.

“This is chive,” he said, “You like those, right?”

Kisa nodded and approached, squatting down beside Yuki to examine the small plant.

“In a month it will be ready to harvest,” Yuki explained, “And then I’ll have to deal with Kyo’s stupid shouting about how much he hates them.”

Kisa giggled and then froze. It had escaped before she even realized it was coming. Yuki smiled in relief. At least he hadn’t totally messed this up.

“Why do you grow vegetables?” Kisa asked.

Yuki considered lying, but he felt that wasn’t fair to Kisa. He’d already bared so much of his soul to her anyway.

“Because it’s nice to be needed by something - to know that I’m important to something, somewhere. If I don’t come and water or weed the garden, the crops won’t thrive. They need me the most when they’re first planted, before the sprouts really come up. To know that I am making the difference between something growing or not . . . It makes me feel like maybe there is one good thing I can do.”

Kisa and Yuki looked out across the garden in silence. They didn’t meet each other’s eyes, but a steady air settled between them. They were both surprised to find it comforting. A breeze rustled the sprouts. Yuki turned to Kisa.

“You know,” he said, “I agreed to be the next student council president. The current one kept asking me to, and I didn’t want to do it because I was afraid. I would have to work with many other people, and they’d learn more about me because we’d always be talking. I didn’t want to do that . . . But then you came, and you talked about how hard things are . . . And then you decided to go back to school anyway. You said you would try harder, and keep trying, even though it’s scary.”

Yuki turned away, kicking himself that he couldn’t keep the eye contact longer, but he wasn’t ready - not yet.

“It’s because of you,” he said, “That I could be brave. For you to go back even when you were so afraid, it made me realize I could do it too. It reminded me that I needed to try harder too. . .Thank you, Kisa, for helping me be brave.”

Silence. Silence. Silence. Then a small sigh. Kisa dropped her head onto Yuki’s shoulder, leaning her small body against his side. She shook a little, and he knew she was crying again, but it was different this time. It was relief, not heartbreak. He was relieved too.

They sat like that for a few more minutes before Kisa said she better call her mother and let her know she was okay and coming home soon. They walked back to the house, hand in hand again. They didn’t say anything, but this silence was nothing like the silence on Yuki’s walk home.

“Thank you,” Kisa whispered as they approached the house. She smiled up at him.

“You’re really kind, Yuki-niisan.”

Yuki smiled back. He didn’t believe her - not yet. But he would.


End file.
